


Explosions- May 15th

by merrabeth



Series: A Fic a Day in May ^_^ [8]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: I Tried, M/M, it's..., just read it, not cute but, something, way too...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:11:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1622021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrabeth/pseuds/merrabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anonymous asked:</p><p>Could you write a fic after season 4 about Mickey getting Ian to come out of his depression coma just by loving the shit out of him. Even after Fiona and Lip keep telling him that he doesn't understand and that his efforts are futile. Lot's of cuteness :) <3 THANKS</p>
            </blockquote>





	Explosions- May 15th

**Author's Note:**

> Literally just played Ellie Goulding's "Explosion" on repeat because man it's great! This may not be as cute...but...

This day would go down in history for Mickey Milkovich; this absolutely unordinary day where the rain storm had kept him locked up in the confines of his own house.

In the walls of his house, he wasn’t able to _try_ to forget what was going on in his bedroom. For really the first time this spring, the outside matched the inside in every sense possible. It wasn’t like the Milkovich house was a harbor for happiness, but somehow an inevitable depression has seeped its way in and Mickey wasn’t letting go. He couldn’t; he wouldn’t.

But he opened his door to see something as heartbreaking as the day the battle had started: the red head with pale shoulders, freckles standing out against the fading color in skin, hunched over and hands trembling, covering that precious face that Mickey made his mission to help every day.

Ian sat against the headboard, his knees drawn up and his head ducked into himself. It had been so long since anyone has seen him sitting up, in any position but lying down and near lifeless, that the sight would have had Mickey leaping for joy in that moment.

“Ian…” Mickey whispered.

Ian lifted his head, revealing a face to match the downpour of rain right outside their window. The crying had stopped sometime after a week; he’d cried himself out, essentially. Maybe he’d been saving his tears for this moment, for when he’d felt something again. His lips began to tremor as he shook his head. Mickey was on the bed in an instant, crawling to cradle the fragile glass that was his boyfriend.

“Hey, hey…” Mickey soothed, caressing Ian’s face, using his thumb to wipe away the constant stream of tears. “Everything is…everything will be…” Mickey trailed off at the word “fine” seeing the word to not be right for the last 3 weeks.

It was an explosion, knowing there was blood rushing through the fingers that reached up to Mickey’s cheek, to curl those fingers as they were feather light on now similarly pale skin; somehow, they’d become one and neither was sure that was such a great time or way. Mickey couldn’t stop his smile as he gave a short laugh in relief. From this point on, anything Ian did would give Mickey joy.

But Ian had to get these words out, even if Mickey didn’t understand at this moment what it meant. He opened his eyes that afternoon and met a storm outside, thunder clapping as explosions while the clouds released everything they got. He woke up and one with those clouds, only waking up to the memory of seeing Mickey every day, his blue eyes an ocean trying to wash away the pain within him. There was so much pain in Ian, all stubborn and refusing to be washed away. But each day when Ian would wake up, Mickey’s eyes were the ones he woke to see; those eyes unceasing in their fight to help Ian feel again; remember something, anything, worth feeling for. He woke up that Wednesday afternoon to a window, and somehow knew what he was to feel for. And as the clouds began their release, so did he.

“I’m sorry.” The words were croaked, pushing past an unused instrument. Getting feel for his throat yet again, he repeated the phrase. “Mickey, I’m sorry.”

He chose the right decision, to feel again. Seeing Mickey’s smile from ear to ear, brighter than the house has ever been, it made Ian want to cry more. He was getting his senses back and none of this could be real. To feel like this, it all came back with an explosion. He could read the confusion in Mickey’s expression as he continued to beam his smile of relief. His thumbs kept at its work to dry the flood that Mickey had unintentionally created. He wasn’t aware it was him, but it didn’t matter- to either of them.

Mickey’s heart leaped through his chest, guiding his next actions. His lips crashed into Ian’s with another explosion; an explosion of colors as the clouds began to clear and the sun radiated over the remains; explosions of light in the wet air, crystals of light shining into colors that seep together and everything was beautiful. The kiss broke and Ian could feel: Mickey’s smile was beautiful.

Mickey looked up through his lashes, staring into the green eyes washed away to show that spark that made Mickey’s heart melt. Ian offered a small smile, feeling himself becoming aware of his other emotions again. It was a dim beginning to a bright future; a future that was said to be impossible.

The room was illuminated while the storm still raged; explosion after explosion.

“Missed ya,” Mickey uttered, quiet in the room but ringing clearly in Ian’s ears.

Ian could feel his smile growing wider, tears threatening to build up to a flood again. Ian clutched to Mickey’s fingers on his face the way Mickey’s other hand held on to the back of his neck.

He was awoken and in front of him were the eyes that brought him to this point. Neither were letting go.


End file.
